DDay
by Malevolent Procrastination
Summary: What happens in the U.S. during Russia's invasion from the point of view of civilians? A realistic, gritty, and civilian approach to the situation following 3 teenage boys and their families and their fight for survival. CH.1 is up. OC


Alright guys, new story. Something I've been working on for a while. My computer died, so it was out of commision for a ew months. I also lost my beta. Not to author, don't date your beta. Lemme know what you guys think, and how to improve it. Your entertainment is my purpose.

Disclaimer: I do not own Call of Duty 4 : Modern Warfare 2.

* * *

It was Friday, June 6th. He'd just turned 18. His name was Jacob Garcia. He was a senior in high school and hoping to enlist in the U.S. Army the next day. His parents were divorced and he lived with his mother. He wanted to follow in his father's footsteps and enlist in the Army, but his mother had stopped him everytime, saying he was too young. He was 18 now. He was a man. He could enlist and no one could tell him otherwise. He knew he would pass the physical exam. He was 6'1" 180 pounds of solid muscle. 6 years of various martial arts from karate to tai-kwon do to BJJ made sure that he was in top physical condition. Shock blonde hair and blue eyes were odd considering his half Hispanic heritage. His mother's Swiss blood ran strong in him. He also knew the ASVAP would pose no problem. With an IQ of 180, he was a certifiable genius. A trait from both parents. His mother worked for NASA as a aeronautical engineer and was helping design a new re-entry vehicle for future space missions. His father was a combat engineer who then became an automotives engineer for the Army. He had significant influence in the design of the Stryker APC and MGS. Jacob tended to hate attention, hence he kept his intellect a secret, keeping his school grades between 80 and 90 and only answering when called on. The only people who knew of his abilities were his parents and his two closest friends, Jeffery Allen, a 6' football player with an older brother in the Army Rangers. He was nowhere near Jacob's level intellectually, but was by no means stupid, and Christopher James, a 5'11" track freak who was also employed by the school to help maintain the computer systems.

All three shared a common interest in the military, martial arts, and guns in general and spent a lot of time at a local gun range having competitions with Jacob's AK-47 he received as a gift. For his 16'th birthday, Jacob's father sent him a custom made tactical AK-47. It had polymer furniture, four rails around the fore arm and an ergonomic pistol grip. He spent some of his hard earned money upgrading it by adding a folding front post sight, M4 style collapsible buttstock and an EOTech Holographic sight with a side folding 3X magnifier. Ammo was cheap, and since Chris's father owned a sun store, they got ammo even cheaper. Many a day was wasted punching holes in paper targets at the range. Chris and Jeff brought their SKS and CAR-10 respectively, but neither had the accessories that Jacob's AK had. They all loved that gun.

And Jacob was sitting at his desk in his room cleaning it, thinking about what his mother would say tomorrow when he told her he was enlisting. He had re-assembled the rifle was now cleaning the magazines. He had 9 of them. 3 for each person when they went shooting. They were all 30 round magazines. He had a couple sardine cans of ammo and a couple boxes under his desk. Over 1,200 rounds in total. After cleaning the spring and insides of each magazine, he re-assembled it and using stripper clips loaded each one to full capacity. He wanted to make sure the springs hadn't weakened. Once all 9 were loaded, he laid them out on his desk with his rifle. He loved the way it looked laying on the desk, surrounded by loaded polymer magazines. 270 rounds in total. 271 if he loaded one in the chamber with the first mag, which he usually did. It could chew the ammo pretty quickly. It was semi-auto, but had a light and short trigger pull making it very easy to continously put rounds down range. The M4 style buttstock also made it easier to stay on target. As though the universe was trying to make everything perfect, his tv was tuned to the Military Channel, and on it they were discussing the AK-47 and it's role in changing the world. Jacob felt a surge of pride knowing he owned one of the greatest weapons ever made.

'God I love this...' his thoughts were interrupted by the piercing thrill of the Emergency Broadcast System. 'I didn't see anything about the weather this morning.' Walking out his room into the hallway, he angled himself down to his mother's room. "Hey mom. You know what's going on?" She came barrelling out of her room with an old Army rucksack in her hands.

"Grab your gun, ammo and some food. We're being invaded."

"What?" Jacob yelled as he ran back into his room. "How do you know?"

"Remember Jason? My old friend from high school?" She was filling the ruck sack with canned food, granola bars, old MRE's. Anythng that would be easy to eat on the move and provided energy.

"You mean that guy that's the air trafic controller?" Jacob had placed all his magazines in a tactical vest he had purchased earlier that year. The AK was attached by a tactical sling and hung on the right side of his body. He was still dressed in his track shorts and t-shirt with running shoes.

"Yeah. He just called and told me. Grab some clothes. You got old BDU's and some boots in your closet right? Throw them in a bag and let's get going."

"Alright. But how does he know?" He was pulling clothes out of his closet and putting them in a gym bag.

"He got word of fighters moving north over I-95."

"So? Could be ours."

"Ours wouldn't bomb the gas stations around the highway."

"Holy shit..." Jacob was visibly shaken up by this and stumbled as he followed his mother through their house. "Who the fuck was it?"

"We don't know. But they aren't playing around. This is a full on assualt on the entire east coast," They were out of the house and on the way to their neighbor's house, "Every majoy city from the southern tip of Georgie up to NYC has been hit. We're lucky we're in a little coastal town. You're father may have been paranoid when he picked this place to raise you, but I'm fucking glad for it now." Mr. James and his son Christopher met them outside.

"Any idea what's going on?" The older man asked.

"Yeah. We're being invaded. We need to get to the evac sites. Where are the Allens?"

"Not sure, but I think they'll be here in a couple. Could have been in the middle of dinner. Would take them a minute to get out here." Christopher's father had a large diesel duelie that could seat 6. The three boys had been so close that their parents became good friends for it. In the event of an emergency, they'd decided to meet at the James residence and take his truck which had the most room and power of all the vehicles. It would also keep all 3 families together. Mr. James and his wife would sit in the front with Jacob's mother, Joseph's mother and two daughters would sit in the back while the three boys rode in the truckbed.

Jacob moved off with Chris. "Got your SKS. Good. We might need them."

"Yeah. Finally got those mags working too. No more stripper clips. 30 rounds from now on."

"Good. Hope Jeff's smart enough to bring his gun."

"He ain't an idiot. You know that as well as anyone."

"Doesn't mean he'll think he might need a gun. Could think it's a weather thing."

"You guys talking bad about me already? Damn, and I just got here too." Both boys turned around to see Jeffery with a rifle in his hand and 6 magazines on a vest he'd modified to carry ammo. "So what's this I hear about us getting invaded? Who'd be stupid enough to fuck with us?"

"Hell if I know," Chris replied, "But they're pulling out all the stops. Took out every gas station along I-95. Couple thousand gotta be dead."

"Why would they go after the gas stations?" Jeff asked.

"Tactics. You blow up the gas station, that's one less place people can get fuel to escape. You also force the military to carry their own fuel since they can't fill up at civilian spots. National Guard ain't equipped to carry large amounts of fuel for distances. Force the humvees to carry fuel and you reduce ammo loads they can carry and overall combat effectiveness. You also cause a huge explosion. Kill civilians, cause injuries that'll slow the corpsmen down and drop morale among the populace. Dirty fucking tactics but I'll be damned if they don't work." Both boys stared at Jacob. "What?"

"1: That's most you've ever said, and 2: how do you know that?" Chris asked the taller boy.

"And? And I don't. Just figuring it out as I go along. But it makes sense, doesn't it? Told you reading those books on tactics would come in handy someday."

"Hey boys, load up, we're leaving," Jacob's mother called out to them.

"You heard guys, we're Oscar Mike," Jacob told to the two other boys as he moved towards the truckbed. He threw his bag onto the back of the truck and vaulted over the edge, using the tire as a step. He helped the other two boys with their bags and gave them a hand getting on. Once they were seated, Mr. Allen put the already running truck into gear and drove out in the direction of the university. "Should take about 20 minutes to get out there," Jacob yelled over the sound of the wind. He opened the gym bag and began changing into his BDUs.

"Not very shy are you?" Jeffery asked Jacob.

"Nothing nobody hasn't seen before," Chris yelled back. "Nice boxers," he yelled at Jacob with a playful wink.

"Fuck off.," Jacob yelled back. The two other boys were wearing jeans, and plain t-shirts, with leather boots on. They all wore the same sort of clothes, being that they were the most comfortable and practical. The cotton t-shirts kept them cool in summer and warm in winter, while the jeans were tough and could withstand a good bit of abuse. They wore different boots, but they all came over their ankles, and were very supportive with various forms of mesh along the side to breathe better. Being that they were leather, they could also withstand a good amount of use, and were the epitome of all terrain footwear. Good insoles, and oil resistant outsoles meant that they never lost their footing, and were capable of running very comfortably in them. "Any ideas on who might be attacking us?" he yelled to his friends, after lacing his boots up.

"Might be the Chinese. They've had a chip on their shoulders for the past few years ever since we took our economy back from them. Might be finally trying get back at us for that." Jeff yelled out.

"Not even close. That's no reason to do something so politically disastrous as attacking a fellow superpower. Besides, the Chinese might not be the top power, but they're not stupid. They wouldn't go toe to toe against us when they know we could wipe them out with ease. Gotta be someone with a strong military. Someone who actually stands a chance against us and they know it. And who has a reason. That leaves out all of the EU, Isreal, even though they could probably give us a run for our money, most of Africa, minus Egypt, but they have no qualms with us, all of South America, except Columbia, but they're a drug-gang run country. They wouldn't have the military might of fighters to bomb us with, and Australia. The Aussies never would try something with us. All the Commonwealth countries like India and New Zealand are also out of the question. That only leaves the Commies. North Korea, Russia, Vietnam, and former Soviet countries." Chris explained to Jeffery.

"Not Vietnam. They don't have that kind of power. Korea might finally be trying to pull out of that stalemate they have with South Korea by attacking us, their guadians, but I doubt they'd make a move like that. I'd go with Croatia or Russia. They have the might for it, and with that incident in Moscow not too long ago, they seem to be pretty pissed off at us." Jacob yelled to the other two.

"What the hell was that all about anyway?: Jeffery asked.

"Something about American terrorists attacking and massacring hundreds in a major airport in Moscow, then going toe to toe with the law enforment there. Apperantly, 3 men took out 4 squads of their most elite Counter-Terrorism squads." Chris yelled,

"Doesn't say much about the competancy of their law enforment huh?" Jeff shouted, jokingly.

"All three were eventually taken out." Christpoher yelled back

"But why the fuck would some Americans start some shit like that? It makes no sense."

"I have no idea, but what's past is past. Brooding over it isn't gonna get us anywhere. For now, let's just focusing on getting out of here alive, shall we?" He yelled as the truck went around a corner. "Keep your eyes open. The bombing might be a distraction to pull our forces to a certain area while they attack or invade through another area. This place constitutes another area. We're small, with no real political or military significance or defenses. An easy area to overrun and establish a foothold on our soil." Jacob called out. The sun was going down, and despite the warnings, the roads were surprisingly clear. Christopher's father keep the truck at a steady 80 miles an hour, despite the 35 speed limit. He wasn't afraid of law enforcement trying to enforce the laws in the present situation. As if to affirm Jacob's suspicions, a convoy of National Guard Humvees drove past them in the opposite direction. The three teens spent the rest of the ride in silence, brooding over their thoughts on the coming days. What could happen, and how to get out alive.


End file.
